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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25864561">Can't Make You Love Me</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/MotleyMoose/pseuds/MotleyMoose'>MotleyMoose</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Marvel Universe Imagines [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Deadpool - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anger, F/M, Gen, Hawkeye is gonna get his butt kicked, Heartbreak, Mentions of Pregnancy, Sadness, Sorrow, all of the angst, deadpool is a good friend</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 07:41:40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>541</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25864561</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/MotleyMoose/pseuds/MotleyMoose</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint Barton breaks my heart.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Clint Barton/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Marvel Universe Imagines [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/704043</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Can't Make You Love Me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I reread one of my old fics and I thought, "But what if I make it sad."<br/>Also, I maaaaaay have listened to too much Bonnie Raitt recently. And that's OKAY.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>No amount of training could have prepared me for this.</p>
<p>Standing underneath the blazing sun, coffee dripping from the hem of my shirt and into my boots, I can’t catch my breath. Watching my heart, my home, my beloved stalk angrily away from me, and I’m frozen in place. How did it ever come to this? Why couldn’t I chase after him, cry, scream, <i>anything</i> ask him <i>why</i>?</p>
<p>
  <i>Why was he doing this?</i>
</p>
<p>I’m choking on the tears that refuse to run, drowning in the sorrow flooding my entire being. My hand is shaking, and the fresh coffee, won off of Wade, sloshing and stinging my skin. A physical anchor to my surroundings. But I ignore it, concentrating instead on what he’d said, what I could’ve done differently. But nothing seems to stick, no words or actions take away the impact of those five little words.</p>
<p>
  <i>I don’t love you anymore.</i>
</p>
<p>They tear through my mind, pushing out every rational thought until I’m a quaking, unresponsive mess. I lose track of time. My fist involuntarily crushes the styrofoam cup, and what remains of my early morning spoils, now tepid and scummy, bursts over my burning hand.</p>
<p>And that’s how Wade finds me, still rooted to the spot where Clint Barton ripped out my heart. But by now, the coffee has long evaporated from my shirtfront and the burn on my coffee-sticky hand is only a dull red throb.</p>
<p>“What the fuck happened?!” he asks, shocked and confused and vengeful. He’d only been gone for 20 minutes, picking out the most perfectly iced donuts to take back to HQ. But he’s abandoned the daisy yellow box on the dirty sidewalk, and his scarred hands are warm on my shoulders as he gently shakes me to my senses.</p>
<p>I open my mouth, and the noise I make is inhuman and breathless, my throat tightening in revolt at what my brain wants to say. Wildly looking up into his face, I work my jaw a few times before snapping my mouth shut, shaking my head. I close my eyes in defeat. Heave a desperate sigh.</p>
<p>Eyebrows furrowed, rage and worry plainly evident on his hood-shadowed features, Wade leans in until we are forehead to forehead. “Please, Y/N/N.” He pauses. His breath is tinged with hazelnuts and Juicy Fruit, and more than anything, I just want him to hold me.</p>
<p>I bite my bottom lip, uncertain. I know Wade, I’ve known him since before I moved to the city and became an Avenger. I feel safe when I’m with him. But feeling safe doesn’t mean I am brave enough to tell him what I told Clint. Tell him the reason my husband has left me.</p>
<p>“Please. Tell me what happened.”</p>
<p>My voice is wedged in my throat. I try to speak once more, only managing a hoarse whisper. “Clint- he… I told him that.. That we- I.” Stammering uncontrollably, I stop and inhale as deeply as I can, willing the tears to hold back for one more minute. It takes everything I have to hold it together, all of my strength and courage to repeat the words that drove Clint away from me.</p>
<p>“I’m pregnant.”</p>
<p>Wade pulls back, looking murderous. “That little shit.”</p>
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